Mausoleums of Our Fathers
by listone15
Summary: In which a southern lady goes to war, and nothing will ever be the same again. OC/Doc Roe, OC/Richard Winters.
1. Prologue

The first thing my mother always tells her guests at dinner parties – or respective baby showers for her friend's daughters, engagement parties, benefit balls, etc. – when the topic of her 'lovely and accomplished Olivia Victoire' comes up is the strange nature of my birth. "When I was in _accouchement_," my mother begins, her light green eyes aglitter with the thrill of having all of the attention in the room focused on her, "she was always very still, never kicked, and I began to worry – I must have drove the midwife to insanity with all of my questions! She just said I had a very quiet little girl. And sure enough, after two days of labor," there was a collective groan of sympathy from all of the ladies in the room at the mention of _two days_. "When she was born, she did not make a single sound. The doctors were very afraid, and tried to slap her, make her scream just to know she was alive, and then when she finally opened her eyes," my mother pauses for dramatic effect here, "she furrowed her little brow, looked around at us, sighed, and went straight to sleep." My mother throws up her hands as if to say _que sera_, and all of the guest twitter with little giggles and chuckles from the men. The conversation then returns to trips to New Orleans for the Mardi Gras season, what sons are up to in college, and who spent what on which townhouse in the city.

I, the lovely and accomplished Olivia Victoire, preferred to sit out at these social events. I had learned from experience that the awkward questions of my person that followed my mother's embarrassing tale were not worth sitting through, and in vain my mother would make up excuses for my absence at such occasions.

"She's in Lafayette working for the Children's Hospital," she would stress as if it were a matter of life and death that my presence was required there. The listener would nod seriously and sip their wine in appreciation of my hard work and dedication.

I suppose I was about seventeen when the guilt from leading a life that everyone believed to be true began to plague my conscience. I actually volunteered for nursing duty in the children's ward dedicated to trauma. My mother found this extremely disturbing.

"Victoire, I just do not understand why you would wish to be surrounded by all that blood and violence!" she would exclaim, her hand pressed to her heart as if it would stop any second from shock.

"They need my help, Mother, whether you believe me or not!" My impatience with her dramatic words and actions would reach its boiling point after this phrase. I was a caregiver at heart, and I loved to be around children, a desire that my mother had never had around me. Somehow the lack of love that had afflicted my childhood relationship with my mother had in turn given me an intense need to see every wounded child through their pain. As I began to spend more and more time at the hospital in Lafayette, my mother began to suspect other reasons for my constant absence from home.

"I suppose you have met a boy, probably some unsuitable Cajun from the bayou," she would snap after I refused to give her any private information. This was my favorite way of making her angry, and my father knew it; he would pretend to read the evening paper in his favorite chaise lounge by the fire, but over the rim of the page I could see his eyes twinkling at me from across the room. "Or perhaps you are going out to the dancehalls to have inappropriate interactions with those _soldiers_," she would sneer.

"Mother, sit down, you are going to give yourself an upset stomach," I would reply staunchly. My father's suppressed chuckles could be heard from across the room. My mother would glare over at my father. "You think this is funny, Charles? You think that your only child's disobedience is to be encouraged?"

My father would fold down the paper and without any second thought say, "Liv's a smart girl Madeleine, you don't give her enough credit for her common sense. She can make her own decisions." While my mother threw up her hands and let out and _sacredieu_ loud enough for the whole parish to hear, my father would wink at me and meander to the parlor for a well-needed glass of bourbon.

In the fall of 1941, just before my nineteenth birthday, I enrolled at the University of Mississippi as an undergraduate freshman, in part for an interest in their language department, and to spite my mother, who was almost as devoted to Louisiana State as she was to the St. Peter's Episcopal Church's Ladies League. After securing my transcript, Ole Miss and Oxford welcomed me with open arms after a tearful departure from my mother and a serious hug and a hundred dollars for 'malts and shakes' from my father. I can't lie, part of the appeal of Oxford over LSU was the distance from Shreveport, but I knew that deep down I would miss my mother, despite all of her nagging, and my father the most.

Before I got into my new Ford, my father came to my window. As I rolled down the glass, he steadied my gaze with serious eyes. "I want you to know that I support any decision you make, my love," he said. "Just be safe." Later I would wonder if he knew what was coming, and the course of action I would take in December.

My first few months in Oxford were a swirl of parties and laughter. I found myself comparing my own appearance to those of the beautiful coeds who surrounded me. I was not ugly, I was just different. Two years of pulling and pushing heavy medical carts had given me some muscle in my arms and legs, and had robbed me of that waifish frame that was in style. I was curvy and a modest 5'7", with tan skin from laying out by the pool at the Shreveport Country Club, and had tennis tan lines. My dark brown hair was long and wavy, and my green eyes were a strange mixture of hazel and aqua blue. Most of the ladies around me had blonde hair and blue eyes, very sweet voices, and all went to the Baptist church in town. I was a different breed, and we all knew it, but they welcomed me with open arms just the same. After receiving my bid card to Chi Omega in September, I entered the world of the sorority girl. As a gift, I found a package filled with Cadbury Crème eggs and a Chanel handbag. A note from my father gave me his congratulations and a check for five-hundred dollars to spend on 'necessary items'. Giggling with my roommate Elise, we went to the local department store the next day and bought evening gowns for upcoming formal parties and makeup to last us a lifetime at Este Lauder.

After my Thanksgiving holiday, I escaped all of the dinner parties of Shreveport and the constant eye of my mother and returned to Oxford. As December came, there was a mild chill in the air as the first nips of frost became evident. One day Elise barged into our dorm room shrieking wildly.

"OH-LIV-I-AH!" she screamed/drawled in her South Mississippi accent. Startled, I dropped the pointe shoes and German homework that I had been putting carefully into my day bag all over the floor. In a gesture that shockingly reminded me of my mother, I placed a hand over my rogue heart that was beating wildly from shock. "My God Elise, what is it!"

Elise froze, hands clasped behind her back, her mouth in a perfect little red 'o' of 'I-know-something-you-don't!' and whipped out her left hand. On it sat a large, square cut diamond the size of a tooth. "ELLIOT PROPOSED!"

Hiding my disappointment behind a shocked smile, I encouraged her squeals of glee and absent-minded talk of what colors she would pick for bridesmaids gowns while I slowly gathered up what I had dropped on the floor. Elliot was the most selfish son-of-a-bitch that ever walked campus. He was known as a womanizer and an arrogant asshole, and was encouraged on by his fraternity buddies. I was actually rather confused as to why he would propose to Elise, whom he had treated horribly, but I had a slight suspicion it had something to do with inheritance and his father, who he always said was 'threatening to disown him if he didn't settle down'. Though I gathered all of these things into consideration, I didn't dare say any of them aloud. Elise, who I loved dearly, was always so blind, and besides, this would be a good starter marriage for her. She would get the reality check she desperately needed with that no-count by her side.

After I finished my ballet practice in the dance studio, I went to class and checked the date in my planner. December 7, 1941. Later I would discover that for some reason I had placed a small exclamation mark next to the date some point in the past, but I did not understand why until later that day.

When the call came for the student body to gather in the auditorium to announce what had happened in Hawaii earlier that day, everyone was very calm. Most of us had heard of the war in Europe, obviously, but we all believed that it was not the United States' place to get involved where they were not responsible. But now, after the decimation of our naval fleet in Pearl Harbor, there was a buzz of action reverberating around the room. Even I felt it, and down in my heart I knew what I had to do before I even made up my mind to do it.

The next day, without telling anyone, I packed up what I deemed to be necessary clothes, as well as my German and French textbooks and ballet shoes and leotards, and withdrew myself from all of my classes at the bursar's office. Walking to the local post office, I entered an army recruiter's office.

As I sat down in the wooden chair before his desk, I passed him my transcript and my past experience at the Children's Hospital. After a few moments of hurried typing at his typewriter, he sighed and looked up at me carefully. "I suppose you want to become a hospital nurse then?"

"No, sir," I replied. "I would like to become a field medic."

After a moment of silence and a battle of wills between a long stare, he complied. "Okay, let's just fill out these forms. Name?"

"Olivia Victoire Gatreaux-Neel," I said smoothly. He looked up with arched eyebrows.

"O-kay, then, _my lady_," he said with a small smile, and I smiled back demurely. This was a common reaction among those who weren't used to the southern tradition of four names, especially if they weren't from French Louisiana. "Age?"

This went on for about an hour, covering all my health records and past education, until it was time to decide where I wanted to go. He laid out my options as I stared at a small figurine of a man with a parachute on his desk.

"Paratroopers," I said quietly. He stopped talking and glanced at me with an unreadable expression. "Paratroopers? Are you sure?" he said incredulously. I looked up at him with all the iron will of my mother, and replied, "Absolutely."

Sighing, he stamped my papers and said for me to be ready to be shipped out for medical training the following afternoon. "Where am I going, sir?" I asked as I turned to leave. "To the Veteran's Hospital in Atlanta, and then to Camp Toccoa, in Georgia. You will be stationed with the men of Easy Company, in the 506th Airborne regiment. Are you sure you are up to this? I highly doubt a sorority girl is willing to go to war."

I smiled politely at his dubious attitude and replied, "Sir, never underestimate the will of a southern lady." He laughed politely and saluted me goodbye. I smiled and saluted him back, and walked out the door to a future of events so magnificent and terrible I could never have imagined.


	2. Chapter 1: Medical

**To all my readers and reviewers – thank you so much for the encouragement! My updates might be a little spacey at times, but I'm doing a lot of research to make sure that all the details are true. **

**Disclaimer: I only own Liv and her story. **

Medical

_Rule One of Medical Training_, I later wrote down in my journal, _is that they aren't actually cadavers. _

When Head Surgeon Lee of Lawson General Hospital in Chamblee, GA, first lead us down to the basement of the trauma ward, I first thought that he was going to teach us how to pack supplies properly. But we never made the turn down to the stock room; rather, we kept forging on into the darkness of the musty and increasingly chilly tunnel. Some of us had never gone down this way, and anxiously looked around, while others had steeled their faces into an unreadable mask. I looked down at the pale blue tile under my feet and willed my mind away elsewhere, somewhere warm.

Medic training had not been what I was expecting. As soon as I had stepped out of the Oxford post office, the responsibilities that I had avoided while I enlisted snuck up behind me and invaded my brain with a fog of confusion. How was I to tell Elise that I was leaving? She would have no doubt by now noticed my absence and would begin to fret. What would I do with my Ford? As I watched the Square bustle with couples going in and out of Nielson's Department Store and colored leaves rustle into the gutter, I felt momentarily stunned by gravity. I was unable to move from the spot as my brain raced with the sheer impossibility of what lay before me. _My poor father, _I played on repeat inside my head. _My poor father._

The chill of the air went through my bones, and I shivered as I wrapped my cable-knit coat around my sides. I hurried down Jackson Avenue to campus. As I arrived at my dorm, I sighed in relief as Elise was momentarily out, probably showing off her ring to all of the jealous girls in her sorority in lavaliere. I dragged my world-worn tweed suitcase from under my bed, and with a heave hurled it on top of my bed. Panic hit me as I started haphazardly throwing random articles of clothing from my closet across the room. I snatched my makeup bag from my desk and shoved all of my cosmetics and jewelry into it. I tossed it in the general direction of my bed. I hurried over to the dresser to write Elise a small note explaining where I was, and for her to tell my parents if she wished. I told her to keep my car safe in the lot until further instruction from me or my parents. Sighing, I slammed the pen down on the desk and turned to give a careful look over of our room to see if had forgotten anything else. My gaze landed on my bedside table, where a small red book lay on top of an old weathered Bible. I grabbed both of the books and placed them gently in my suitcase. With a snap of the lid and a click of the lock, I was on my way to hell on earth.

"Now, the most important thing to remember if an arterial wound happens to occur is that _constant pressure _is needed to stop the bleeding," drawled our Head Surgeon, walking calmly between operating tables with his hands clasped behind his back, "because without _constant pressure_, your man could be dead in mere minutes."

We were practicing simple wound stitching on what in my mind had become extremely precise anatomical wax figures. I would not allow myself to believe in what they truly were. I also would not allow myself to throw up on the operating table. I also would not allow myself to think about where I was, why the air smelled of formaldehyde, why it was close to freezing in this basement room. I wanted to stay innocent of death as long as I could. I knew this goal was futile, but if it helped me to keep down my lunch, then so be it.

As I looked down on my wax figure, it occurred to me how much work went into his creation. I found myself discovering a new appreciation for the importance of eyelashes, cheekbones, and everything that helped humans survive. As I stitched up my wax figure for the last time, I carefully gathered up all of my tools, and placed the operating sheet gently over its face. All of the other nurses and medics had left without cleaning up after getting permission to dismiss from the Head Surgeon. I wheeled my wax figure to one of the long steel tables before brushing my hands gently on my apron and turning to the door. Lee was standing next to the doorway, hands still held behind his back, considering me with a long look.

"Is there something else you need me to do, sir?" I asked, feeling as if I had forgotten to do something important.

"No, no, Neel," he said curtly as he turned to leave. He looked back as he motioned for me to follow him. "I have just come to the conclusion that you are the best medic out of your group."

As I followed him down the long blue hallway, I stayed silent for a moment as I considered his words. "Why do you think that is, sir?"

"You actually care about your patient, it's obvious in the way you touch the wounded in our wards," he said as he climbed the stairs back up to the first ward. "They look at you like you're some kind of saint. Hell, you even treated a cadaver better than most in your class treat a live soldier!"

I winced slightly at the word 'cadaver', but took his compliment in stride. It was true that the others in my group did not care so much for the well-being of the patient as much as they cared about getting their job done. "Thank you, sir," I replied. "I just believe every life is precious."

"Now that notion will either get you a Purple Heart, or killed," he chuckled and waved at me to follow him. "Which is why, Miss Neel, I am considering sending you early to Toccoa."

Now it was my turn to be confused. I had barely just finished six out of the required nine months of medical training. Though I did admit to myself that I was years ahead in experience of those around me, I did not want to sound insolent by declaring my superiority and asking for an early transfer. "May I ask why, sir? I am confident in my abilities, but I would like to hear your reasoning."

"Well," he began, and plopped himself down in his chair outside the ward doors, "you are extremely strong. Don't think I haven't seen you lug those corn-fed Minnesota boys from gurney to gurney all by yourself when you know you're supposed to ask for help from one of the men." His eyes twinkled at me in a kind way as I blushed at getting caught. "Also, you are one hell of a runner. I always know you'll be the first one in the ward when the call for a medic comes. You don't back down from any challenge, even when it comes to intensive care. And you are a joy to be around. You have a good head on your shoulders, and common sense. You deserve to be with the best."

All through this speech I had been looking down at my feet with a mixture of pure embarrassment and pride at his words. "When do you think you'll send me to Toccoa, sir?"

"Depends on what Colonel Sink has to say about that," replied the Lee, already standing up and readjusting his stethoscope around his neck. "But I'd wager about two days, give or take. Either way, get to packing." And with a smart salute, we parted ways. As soon as he was around the corner and out of earshot, I squealed with accomplishment and skittered away down the hall towards the dormitories.

As the heat of the June day evaporated slowly into the sky, I emerged out into the woods of Chamblee that were located behind the hospital. The woods were the only way I could escape from the violently red reality of human life at the hospital. Lately I had begun to take a book I had found in the medical library, _The Encyclopedia of Natural Medicine_, with me so that I could find and identify plants that could be of some future use to help heal men in the field. I breathed in the sweet smell of the sap trees and Georgia pine, fresh from the light rain we had caught that morning, and felt lighter. Checking to see if anyone was watching, I slipped out of my uncomfortable white nurse shoes and rolled off my socks. As my barefoot feet touched the bed of pine needles that lay on the forest floor, I rolled my toes with glee and relished in the feeling of mud sinking around my toes. If anything, the thing I missed most from home was hunting excursions on misty Saturday mornings with my father along the Red River. Only there could I shed the awful society girl image that my mother had forced upon me and could become the forest nymph I thought I was on the inside.

I left all of my things in a small pile at the tree line and stepped into the full cover of the forest. Immediately things were okay again. I didn't know why, and I didn't stop to question my concern, but I knew that this would be one of the last times in the next few years that I would be truly alone. I closed my eyes and raised my face to the dappled sunlight that rained down gently through the leaves of the canopy above. After a few moments, I opened my eyes slowly and saw a doe standing ten feet away, frozen in place and looking at me carefully.

After a beat, I said, "I will survive this, won't I?" to no one, to everyone, but mostly to the doe. The only response I received was a flash of a white tail darting into the forest.

When I returned to my bunk, I saw Charlotte was already there, scribbling hurriedly on a piece of paper supported by a worn copy of _Gray's Anatomy_. Charlotte was my blonde nurse friends who worked in the operating rooms with H.S. Lee, and she was a genius at realigning bones from what I've heard from her orderlies. She would no doubt be transferred to a field hospital in England by the end of the summer, but for now her main concern was the safety of her beau Alexander, who was stationed somewhere in Italy as the Head Surgeon of a small hospital. Though he was mostly out of the line of direct hit, Charlotte's pastime was worrying constantly aloud about the health and happiness of Her Darling in Italy. That, and painting her constantly pink nails.

"Hey, doll," she greeted as she signed the page with a forceful flourish. "What are you up to?" She glanced up and frowned at my muddy feet that were tracking caked dirt all over our polished floors. "Why are you so dirty?"

I tossed my hair over my shoulder and rolled my eyes at her. "Woods, of course," I smiled, knowing she knew about my obsession with all things nature.

"But of course," she sighed, and rolled over to let out a squeal-scream of exhaustion. This was in part why I preferred Charlotte's company to Elise's. Even though they were wrapped around their men's fingers – something which I truly just did not understand – at least Charlotte's priorities were for her own well-being, and her relationship with Alex was healthy. I had not heard from Elise since after I fled from Oxford the day I enlisted. I could only take that as a sign of pure shock to someone who had been following her mother's rules of being a perfect lady since birth.

"I have news," I said as I began to drag out my tweed suitcase, again. "I'm being transferred to Toccoa early."

Charlotte immediately forgot her _woe-is-me_ act and looked up at me with wide eyes. "You're not leaving already, are you?" she asked with a slight note of fear in her voice.

She and I had become extremely close during the last six months, and I felt a twinge of pity in my heart for her. Charlotte had trouble making friends, as her big mouth often got her in trouble and bruised the egos of men and women alike on our ward. I was one of her only girlfriends, and definitely the one who was closest to her. "I have to go Charlotte," I said happily, stressing the exciting aspects of this occasion over the sad. "I've wanted this for such a long time!"

After a moment of pouting faces and fake bawling, Charlotte brightened up and gave me a big hug, wrapping her arms around me tight. "You know I really am proud of you, I actually want you to go and get out of this dinky little hole. I'll just miss you like hell, you know?"

"I know, girl, I know." With that, we set about packing up all of my things into my battered suitcase. A few minutes later, the little I had was carefully folded and ready to go. Charlotte emerged from our cubby holding my little red book carefully.

Silently she passed it over to me. "You're going to need that. I know you think you're okay on your own, but no one can really ever make it by themselves. Give your men another gift along with your ability to save lives." I silently nodded and placed the red book in the pile of white clothes as the late day sun shone on the cover, reflecting bloody rays, tinting the inside of the case pink.

There was a soft knock at the door and one of Charlotte's orderlies peeked nervously around the frame. "Nurse Langford," he said with a small blush. It was no secret that all of Charlotte's orderlies were head over heels for her. "Nurse Neel," he said, looking over at me with equal jumpiness, "Dr. Lee told me to tell you that you are leaving for Toccoa this afternoon. A car will be out front in a few minutes. I can help you take your things to the outside benches, if you need me."

After waving off his attempts to snatch up my measly suitcase, I hefted the thing over my shoulder with one hand. "I got it," I said, and looked at him pointedly. He quickly backed off and left me a Charlotte alone. She gave me one last tight hug and whispered an excited, "Be safe!" in my ear. I nodded quickly, and with one more goodbye hug, I walked out of the hospital for what I hoped was the last time.

As I sat on the curb on my suitcase, I appreciated the sun's slow descent over the green treetops of the forest. As I gazed absentmindedly into the woods, a small doe stepped out again into a clearing through the narrow gaps of the pines. We locked eyes for a brief moment, and then she fled away as my Jeep honked its arrival into the hospital parking lot. As I climbed into the back, the rumble of the engine and the mechanical grinding of the gears blocked out any last views of the paradise in the trees.

**I welcome any reviews!**


	3. Chapter 2: Boys

**Yay! I am so glad y'all are enjoying the story so far! This story will definitely take a while due to research and an effort to write my best. Please do not hesitate to make any corrections if I slip up! **

**Victoire gets a little sassy in this chapter…I hope you enjoy!**

Boys

The ride from Chamblee to Toccoa only lasted for a little over two hours, and by the time I had safely disembarked from my Jeep, the deep purple of Georgia dusk had cast the camp into shadows. The Jeep had let me out directly in front of the camp headquarters, and I picked up my suitcase and walked towards the small building, trying to wipe off some of the road dust off of my dress. The attempt was futile, and I accepted that a spot of dirt on my hem wouldn't make the colonel send me packing in disgrace.

The inside of the building was sparse, with only a couple of hard wooden chairs and a large desk occupying the center of the room. Sitting in a plush leather office chair was a man who looked so much like my father that I was momentarily taken aback, until he looked up from his paperwork with an inquisitive glance as to why there was a female shadow blocking his light from outdoors.

Remembering my protocol, I quickly snapped a salute and inquired, "Colonel Sink, sir?"

"Why yes, I see you have found your way to Toccoa safely, Private Neel," he said after returning my salute. He shuffled some papers around until he noticed that I was still standing in the doorway. "Please, have a seat while we finish up some regulation matters."

"Yes sir." I sat my bag carefully down by the doorway and walked over to the chair and sat down, crossing my legs.

"Okay, now Private Neel, since you are the first female to ever set up temporary residence on Toccoa grounds, there has been some specific rules and regulations set in place for your safety and for general propriety." Sink slid a paperclip onto a thick bundle of papers and handed them over the desk to me. As I took them, he must have seen the confusion in my eyes.

"That's a handbook of what is and is not allowed in Toccoa, as well as a general information brief on the average day and duties of a field medic," Sink said, pointing at each individual section of the packet. "But here are some very important ground rules. Number one: you are not allowed to wander alone at night outside, unless you have one of your Easy men accompany you. Your company is full of gentlemen, but I cannot speak for the others. Number two: we will not tolerate any promiscuous actions here between you and the men, and the same goes for them. And lastly, number three: if there are any problems, never hesitate to come directly to me," Sink stated, his eyes twinkling fondly at me over the mountain of paper piled on his desk. My heart was instantly warmed over the tone of fatherly concern in his voice, something that I had sorely missed during my chilly months at the hospital in Chamblee. I found myself relaxing just a little and offering a shy smile of thanks. "I will not tolerate any harassment of what I am sure will be one of the best damn medics in this outfit."

At this, Sink rose from his chair and motioned for me to follow him outside the tent. I hastily grabbed my bag as he walked away towards a line of barracks that looked like they stretched for miles.

"You will be living separately from the men in the barracks, rather we chose to let you bunk with Lieutenant Winters and Nixon, as well as our other Easy Company medic Eugene Roe. I trust them with your safety, as should you." Sink had stopped at what appeared to be an elevated cabin, and I could hear the deep ring of male voices from inside. I was suddenly very nervous; this introduction could make or break my acceptance into the company. Colonel Sink charged up the steps and barged right into the cabin. Letting out a deep breath, I followed right behind him.

The inside of the cabin was sparse, with four beds making a square around the middle of the room, where a small table had been place, on which decks of dirty cards and various tools were haphazardly stacked. Two dark haired men were both sitting on their bunks when Sink entered the room, but hopped to attention once he cleared his throat.

"Lieutenant Nixon, Roe, this is the newest member of Easy Company, Private Neel." I tried to peer around the back of Sink to better see the two men, but he was effectively taking up the entire opening of the cabin door. I carefully tapped him on the shoulder and he looked around at me. "Oh, my apologies Neel, come in here," Sink said, and stepped sideways to let me in. After I carefully lugged my suitcase to the floor, I stood up and smiled at the two very surprised men standing in front of me.

"Anyway, Neel, make yourself comfortable. Tomorrow starts at 0530. Have you eaten anything today?" Sink said, stepping out of the tent. "Yes sir," I replied, keeping my voice light to disguise the panic I was feeling about being dropped off into a foreign camp surrounded by strangers. "I ate at the hospital. I will be fine until morning, thank you." Truthfully I could not have eaten anything if he had forced me to, I was so nervous.

"Well goodnight then gentleman, lady," Sink said and we all exchanged salutes before he disappeared into the night. A beat of silence passed as I stood facing the cabin door and became aware of the two men standing behind me. I stayed frozen on the spot for a moment before I turned around and tried to decide what I would say to these men whose lives had just become a little more complicated than they probably needed. Steeling my shoulders back into perfect posture, I spun around on the heels of my nurse's shoes confidently and smiled tentatively at the men, who were also rooted to the spot.

I cleared my throat a little a smiled sheepishly. "I suppose the polite thing to do would to apologize for barging in on your down time like this, but truthfully I am tired as hell and my back hurts plenty," I said, and immediately noticed that my casual swearing and honest voice had melted their frozen faces of shock. "Shall we try this introduction business again? The Colonel was blocking my view when he said your names."

"Oh….yeah," replied the first of the two, hastily extending a hand to be shook. He was a little pale, with dark eyebrows and had a happy, easy-going demeanor about him. "I'm Lieutenant Lewis Nixon, but you can call me anything you want." He winked at me and I had to grin back. "And I'm Eugene Roe," said the other man, who was slightly shorter than Nixon, and had a tanner face and a quiet look in his eyes. "I'm technically a T-4, but most people 'round here just call me Doc."

Something in his voice was very familiar. "Where are you from Eugene?" I asked, and I could tell that he heard the same twang in my voice as well. "Bayou Chene," he replied, now beginning to smile, "how 'bout you, cher?"

"Shreveport," I replied with a little laugh at his use of endearment. Roe broke out into a big smile and threw his hands up in the air. "Oh Lord, Nix," he said, his tone joking, "we got ourselves a _Shreveport _lady up in our cabin." With that he did a little mock bow and waved his hands in front of him dramatically. "Allow me to show you to your room, mademoiselle," Roe drawled, and rolled my eyes at him in his futile attempt to imitate one of our butlers. Nix stood there with a confused look on his face. "I don't have a single clue in hell what's going on around here, but it's time for me to make my rounds on the men so I will see you all later," he said, rising from his bunk and tucking a silver flask into his belt. After leaving the room, Roe motioned over to a bunk that was clean of all the detritus of the men.

"So you can sleep here," he said, kicking the bed lightly. "I can't tell you how refreshing it is just to have another native here. I'm surrounded by all of these Yankees who don't know jack shit about anything. Don't be offended, but how in the world did a pretty Shreveport girl like you get in the medic business?" He looked at me with genuine interest, but it was the use of the word _pretty_ that made me blush. I hadn't heard anyone call me pretty in over a year, even when I was in college. I carefully set my suitcase on the bed and began to take out all of my trinkets before answering Eugene.

"First of all, what should I call you?" I asked, peering up at him as he helped me unpack. "I assume decorum here only exists when the higher ups are around?"

"Sort of," he said. "We call Nix Nix, but with Lieutenant Winters around, we call him by his rank." Eugene was now flipping through the medical books I had brought from the library of the hospital with interest. "He's just sort of…well, he's very proper. That man has no vices. But you can call me Eugene," he glanced up with happy eyes. "I miss being called by my real name."

"Me too," I replied, tucking my books under my bed. "You can call me Olivia, or Victoire, or Olivia Victoire, whatever you want. Most people just pick the one they like the best, but I would prefer Victoire," I smiled up at him through my lashes. "It makes me feel like a girl. Sometimes you would be surprised how often I feel like a man."

"Nah, cher," Eugene drawled from his bunk. "You don't look anything like a man to me." He winked at me and I rolled my eyes again, but smiled again. I could get used to this flattery thing. "And let me tell you something girl, tomorrow morning when we emerge in all of our glory from this cabin, those boys out there are gonna have a heart attack." I laughed genuinely, but on the inside I was extremely nervous.

"You think they are going to accept me?" I asked, sitting down and kicking my dirty heels off. I could tell that I already liked Eugene. He reminded me of the easy going boys at home who made a living off of being happy and being a gentleman. "Don't mistake me girl, you're gonna have to prove yourself to them, but the fact that you already made it to Toccoa without any combat training is impressive enough, and Lord knows we could use another medic here." Eugene yawned and rolled off the bed. He reached into his pack and pulled out what looked like an extremely wrinkled tarp. He then climbed up on Lieutenant Winters' bed and wrapped a small piece of twine around the ceiling beam and attached it to the tarp. He quickly did the same to the opposite end. "For your privacy," he said with a smile. "We're not complete barbarians in here, you know." I hadn't even thought about changing out of my hospital clothes until he had brought it up, but I was thankful that he was considerate enough to think of my need for privacy all around these men.

"_Merci_, Eugene," I drawled out with some raised eyebrows. Eugene just winked and checked his watch after I let out a gigantic yawn. "Why don't you get some sleep? I'll make sure there aren't any boys hiding under your bed, young lady," he said with mock seriousness, and I couldn't help but cackle when he looked under my bed twice and punched my pillow for fluffiness. I swatted him away to his other side of his room while he complained and I giggled. I couldn't remember the last time I had laughed so much in so little time, and I could already tell that Eugene was going to be a comfort to me in this war. As I returned to my bed, I glanced over at my side table and saw my red book and my Bible. I hesitated for a second, but then decided to hell with it. Grabbing the two books, I peeked around the corner to see Eugene reading a newspaper.

"Hey, Eugene," I said, and he glanced up. "Want to hear tonight's reading?" I held up my little red book and waved it at him. He quickly stood up and walked over to my side of the room. "Yeah, I do, I really do," he said with earnest. "None of the camp chaplains here know how to do it right." He smiled as he sat on my bunk and I opened the book.

"Okay, what day is it?" I asked as I flipped to the index. "It's been forever since I've seen one of these," he said, as he touched the red leather outside of the book. "Where did you get it?"

"I _borrowed _it from my church library back home," I grinned mischievously, knowing well the full irony of stealing something from a church to use in prayer. I could see that Eugene also got the humor. "It's July 8th, little thief," he said, and leaned back to hear the lessons.

"A reading from the Letter to the Romans," I began, and Eugene bowed his head. "'When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners. Now, no one is likely to die for a good person, though someone might be willing to die for a person who is especially good. But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners. And since we have been made right in God's sight by the blood of Christ, he will certainly save us from God's judgment.'" I paused for a second, thinking about the gravity of the words I had spoken in light of my new situation around these men. Would I be willing to die for them when the time came, _if _the time came? I couldn't answer that. "The Word of the Lord," I said, closing the little red book. "Thanks be to God," came the quiet reply from Eugene. We looked at each other for a second, and I knew that the same thoughts had been plaguing his mind as well. "Get some sleep, cher. You are going to need it for tomorrow. Thanks for the reading." And with a small smile, his disappeared to the other side of the cabin. I sighed, and rolled over to turn off my lamp. "_Bonne nuit_," I whispered mostly to myself, but from across the cabin I heard a manly "_Bonne nuit_" and fell asleep smiling.

oooo

I awoke startled by the bugle playing loudly outside the door of our cabin. I groaned and rolled over into my pillow. Though I was used to getting up very early at the hospital, I was not yet accustomed to the army's love of rising at the crack of dawn. I tried to wrap my pillow around my head to block out the noise.

"RISE AND SHINE, PRINCESS," someone shouted beside me, and I cracked open an eye to see Eugene bounding over to my side of the room, already dressed in his uniform. He was carrying a bundle of olive and tan clothes that I recognized as my gear for the next year. Sighing, I rolled over in my bed, hoping to ward him off by ignoring him.

"Oh no you don't," he said, and before I knew it he had scooped me up into his arms and tossed me over his shoulder. Screaming in surprise at my new upside down world, my sleepy mood turned sour. Walking purposefully towards the door, Eugene flung it wide open and stepped out into the morning sunlight that was glaring over Currahee. I tried to wiggle unsuccessfully out of his grasp and received a smart smack across the back of my legs as a response. It was then that I got angry.

By then a small crowd of men had gathered outside of our cabin, no doubt distracted from their morning duties by the appearance of a woman thrown over the medic's shoulder, screaming like a banshee. The first thing I did was to bang my fists against the side of Eugene's neck to distract him. "Quit that Victoire, I'm just trying to help." Quickly losing patience, I growled, "I don't want to hurt you Eugene, but you are about to cross the threshold." With that he stopped and sighed, and slid me down. I glared up at him. This was not my idea of the best way to announce to the men that there was a lady in the camp, but I wouldn't doubt it if by now my shrieking had woken the whole camp. I wasn't even dressed. I was wearing the scrubs they had given me at the hospital for nighttime shifts, and I was standing out in the middle of the road.

Eugene ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. "I was trying to get you to the medic's station, where there are separate showers and changes of clothes for you, but no, you had to go and yell and scream and kick your way out of my friendly gesture," he said with a smile. Still perturbed, I shot him a tiny glare but was internally thankful for his consideration. I had no idea what the climate of these men around me would be, and I could tell that he was just trying to help. I shot him a look and threaded my arm into the crook of his arm that wasn't weighed down with my clothes. "Fine, let's go then," I said, still yawning and adjusting my eyes to the light.

After a comforting, yet very unsanitary shower, and cleaning up my face from the makeup I still had on my face from yesterday, I applied some rouge and mascara when I thought no one was looking. I would be damned if I was to look raggedy in front of a company of men, war or no war. I changed into my brassiere and undershirt and went to find Eugene. He was standing politely in the foyer of the medic's station, and as I entered he turned around with wide eyes.

"Shoot, cher," he said, looking me up and down. "You are going to drive those men wild." Though I had walked around in a bikini freely in Shreveport, I was still unused to the way that Eugene referred to my looks. I suppose living a life away from women made one appreciative of any opportunity to see a lady. I folded my arms across my chest and smiled sweetly at him. "That's why I'm counting on you to stick by my side until I feel comfortable around all these men. Because you wouldn't just desert me and leave me all by myself, right?" Eugene broke out into a smile and bended down on one knee before me and bowed. "I am your loyal servant until death, my lady," he said. I just rolled my eyes – which was becoming a habit around him, I noticed – and sat down on a bench. "So where is my uniform, sir?" I said with an upturned eyebrow.

"I shouldn't even give you one, and let you walk out there just as you are," he said, entering the supply closet, "and let the heart attacks happen. Although I suppose that would just mean more work for me!" I could hear him chortling from the closet and smiled. He emerged a few minutes later with a still wrapped package. He tossed it to me and walked to the door. "They're tailored to fit a lady, and the medic badges are in the little drawer next to the helmets on the wall. Just come out and meet me back at the cabin when you're done dressing, and we'll get breakfast." Eugene gave me a mock salute and exited, leaving me to my new uniform.

It honestly wasn't as a bad of a fit than I had expected, but the one problematic function of my uniform was that it showed off, no, _flaunted _my curves. I looked like one of those girls in the magazines that my cousin Louis stashed under his bed at our family lake house on Pontchartrain. Though I looked impeccable, I was beginning to see that no matter how hard I tried, I would be making a splash today whether I liked it or not. With a sigh, I rolled my shoulders back and painted a confident smile on my face and dabbed on a little lipstick to give my face a little color. _I am beautiful_, I said to myself, _and I am strong enough to face these men_. After this pep talk, I set my cap sideways on my head and tucked my long braid over my shoulder, and left the tent looking for Eugene.

oooo

Lieutenant Richard Winters was not having a good morning. After being forced to sleep in the barracks with the men when a fight between Liebgott and Guarnere had broken out, most likely because of Guarnere's big mouth, he had awoken in a flurry of excitement as Guarnere took another swing at Liebgott. As he separated the men and took away their passes as punishment, he got dressed and met his best friend, Lieutenant Nixon outside.

"What the hell was all that noise?" asked Lew, as he took another swig from his flask. Lew knew better than to try to offer any to Dick – the man didn't drink. Or swear, for that matter. Or do anything wrong.

"Guarnere and Liebgott, again," Dick said in his low voice. He squinted into the early morning sunshine as he walked towards the mess hall. Although he would never show it, he was concerned that the two men wouldn't be able to make peace before their time at Toccoa was over. It was crucial that the men all got along, but with constant fighting, it seemed almost impossible.

"You would think they would just get tired of each other and quit, but no," chuckled Lew as he walked along. Dick noticed a new spring in his step that he hadn't seen before, as if he was almost eager to get to the mess hall. "By the way," Lew began again, a note of _I-know-something-you-don't _in his voice, "we have a new add-on to the company." He turned around and looked at Dick with a raised eyebrow.

Dick wasn't taking the bait. "A Private Neel, with two e's," Lew said again. "Private Neel will be bunking in our cabin, because _Private Neel_," he said with exaggerated emphasis, "is also a trained medic." Lew knew that Dick was notorious for his awkwardness around women, and wanted to milk the opportunity for surprise for as much as it was worth. He suppressed a chuckle as he thought of the situation that lay ahead.

As they rounded the corner to the cabin, Lew heard Eugene say something in French, followed by a pealing female laugh. Lew turned around the corner with Dick in tow, and saluted Eugene and Victoire, who was still smiling broadly from whatever Eugene had said. "Morning Doc, Private Neel," he said happily. Turning to face Dick, who was staring at Victoire as if she had sprouted an extra head, he said, "Lieutenant Winters, this is Private Neel."

Victoire stepped up behind Lew and gave Dick a smart salute. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," she said with a lovely little drawl. Lew gauged Dick's reaction as he stared down at the girl with a bewildered expression, before he regained his composure and saluted her back. "Private Neel," he said, extending a hand, "the pleasure is all mine." Victoire took his hand in a very ladylike manner and gripped it firmly. Lew smiled at the two, and without any hesitation led the group towards the mess hall. Eugene and Victoire fell behind, still talking in French and laughing as Dick found his way to the front with Lew. Lew glanced over at his friend and noticed to his delight that Dick had just the lightest blush on his cheeks. Laughing to himself, they entered the mess hall.

oooo

I had left the medic's area and finally stepped out into the rising sunlight that was slowly illuminating Toccoa. For the first time, I was able to appreciate the beauty of the place. A vast forest surrounded the camp on all sides, and tall pines rose into a small mountain off in the distance that I could only assume was the famed Currahee. The sky was a clear blue and there were bursts of small clouds that spurred on a cool breeze that slightly alleviated the heat of the dawning day. I broke apart my day-dream and began walking towards our cabin. A few feet away I saw Eugene leaning up against the side of the building scribbling in a little book. He looked up as I approached and yelled, "Hey cher, you know French?"

"_I'm fluent_," I yelled back at him in French. Eugene smiled widely and motioned me over.

"_So here's what we're going to do_," he replied, "_any time we need to say anything to each other that the others won't understand, speak French. Trust me_," he winked, "_it makes the other men so mad you would think they had their panties in a twist, pardon my French_." At this I cracked up. Eugene and I were going to be best friends, I already could tell. I was still laughing as Nix and a tall, red-headed man with nice eyes came around the corner.

Nix saluted us, and we quickly saluted back, though we both couldn't hide the smiles on our faces from giggling. "Morning Doc, Private Neel," he said, smiling happily, though still looking a bit hung-over. Lew turned to his friend and said, "Lieutenant Winters, this is Private Neel."

As Winters stepped a little closer, I finally got a good look at him. _Oh my_, said my psyche in the most inopportune moment possible. Screaming at my brain to be quiet, I gave Winters a smart salute, and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." I hadn't intended the greeting to come out sugary sweet with a little drawl, but my instincts from back home had automatically kicked in when I saw just how handsome he was. Damn my mother and he training for me to 'catch more flies with honey than vinegar'. I looked at Winters as a slow blush spread across his face. _Yes!_ screamed my inner girl, and I had to mentally beat down a giggle as I saw him become a little flustered. Gaining his composure again, he said, "Private Neel, the pleasure is all mine," and extended a hand for a handshake. I gently took his hand and squeezed it in the ladylike way. After I moment I let go and followed Nix, and Eugene fell in step next to me. Dick strode forward next to his friend, and it was then Eugene turned and looked at me with a new light in his eyes. "_Oh cher, is that a blush I see on your cheeks?_" Eugene laughed as I shoved him off the road in retaliation. "_I think someone has a little crush on our good lieutenant,_" he said, catching up to me yet again, and I smacked him hard on the arm as we entered the mess hall.

The loud chatter of companies of men bombarded my ears as I gripped on to Eugene's arm as we entered the wide room. The brown wooden structure was full of men, and as we entered the line to the food, I noticed a slight change in the tone of talking in the room. Whispers began to replace shouts across the tables, and I even heard a few catcalls and whistles that made me blush furiously. Eugene tightened his grip around my arm and Nix and Winters shot a stern look at anyone sitting at a table near us that gave a smart remark.

As we got our biscuits covered in gravy, which to me looked like coagulated cement, we made our way to what I assumed was the Easy company table. The men immediately went silent, and Eugene beat all of us to the head of the table. "Listen up y'all," he drawled out, "this is our new medic/paratrooper, Private Neel. She'll be staying in the cabin with us, so no one invite her to take the bed next to yours." The men erupted into laughter and scooted down to make room for us.

I put my tray down and met sixteen pairs of curious eyes looking at me. "Honestly, y'all can just call me Victoire, that is," I shot a glance towards Winters and Nix, "when all the important people aren't around." The men chuckled at this and Nix reached across the table and tapped my nose with a spoon covered in gravy. I stuck my tongue at him.

Eugene passed me a napkin, and a shorter man with an air of a jokester around him said, "I'm George, but you can call me whatever you want." He winked at me and all the other men threw napkins and bits of biscuit at him booing him down. "Alright, okay," he laughed, "but this is Penkala and Muck, Liebgott, Guarnere," pointing at two men who were glaring at each other from across the table, "Joe Toye, Malarkey, Talbert, Perconte, Johnny Martin, Bull Randleman, Shifty, Popeye, Tipper and Hoob." Each man gave a short wave or nod and I smiled back. I had done so much smiling today that my cheeks hurt.

"So where did you come from doll?" George said, leaning forward on his seat towards me. "Oh cut it out Luz," said Guarnere, "stop hovering over her and give us a chance to talk to her." Echoes of 'yeahs!' were heard from around the table and George waved them away. "How 'bout y'all let her talk, fellas?" said Eugene, coming to my rescue.

"Well," I began, not really knowing what to say or who to look at, "I come from Shreveport, I'm an only child, I like to play tennis, I got into the army after I ran away from college and enlisted in Mississippi. I suppose I picked the paratroopers because I like to be the best in everything if I can," I pondered, and then realized they were all listening to me ramble. "So I decided to sign up for the best."

"Hear hear!" cried Nix, who I had almost forgotten was there, and glanced up at Winters, who was also looking at me. He quickly looked away as our eyes met, and I gazed away at the men to try to shake off the awkwardness of the moment. "Any other questions?"

"What's your favorite color?" Eugene mocked, resting his chin on his hand and batting his eyelashes at me. All the other men snickered as I put up my sorority attitude. Acting excited, I put my hands on my hips and leaned away from him in surprise. "Oh my gosh, how sweet of you to ask! It's buh-lueeee," I drawled, acting thrilled. Then I dropped my façade and smacked him lightly on the head.

"Favorite flowers?" Bill asked with a wink. I rolled my eyes and smiled. "White roses, gardenias, and honeysuckle," I replied calmly. "Together they smell glorious." The men around me chuckled. The rest of breakfast continued in rowdy conversation, and as I turned to Eugene to gauge his reaction, he wiggled his eyebrows at me and smiled. I let my smile drop for a second and asked him, "_So do you think they like me?_" Eugene looked around and then with a quick back pat. "_Are you kidding me? They look like they are all half in love with you, princess. Especially that certain lieutenant of yours_" – he dodged a smack – "_who might I add, is looking at you right now. In fact all of these men are looking at us right now _because," as he switched to English, "we are speaking French."

"It's not very fair for y'all to talk bad about us when we can't even understand," teased Nix, and all the other boys laughed. I was beginning to like Easy Company, even though some of them were rather forward, and as Eugene just shrugged, all the men simultaneously stood up as Colonel Sink made a surprise appearance in front of our table.

"Easy Company, men," he said, nodding at us casually, "and lady," he said with a smile, "at ease." The men relaxed and Sink turned towards me.

"Now, Private Neel, I received a very curiously wrapped package this morning addressed to you from a Miss Charlotte Something-and-Other, and as no package is private here, I opened them to find these," as he revealed what he was holding behind his back. "I believe they could only belong to you." Cradled in his hands were my black pointe shoes that I must have left behind in my haste to leave the hospital.

"And," he continued, "I am sorry to say that you will not be running up Currahee with the boys today," – audible groans were heard from the boys, who had no doubt started to imagine me in my PT gear – "but rather practicing your dancing as HS Lee sent a special note saying that it was for," he fished out a small paper note from his pocket, "_crucial vertebrae exercises for Private Neel's physical health_." He folded up the paper and handed the shoes to me. "You may join up with your men after the activity period. That is all." With a smile of thanks I saluted Sink as he walked away. I turned back to the men who were looking at me like I was crazy.

"Vertebrae exercises?" questioned Winters, who had not spoken to me since this morning. I nodded my head. "Is something wrong with your back, private?"

"I took a bad fall from a horse when I was ten," I explained, "and broke my spine in a few places." The men around me cringed. "I'm all right now, but I still need to stretch my back every two days. Ballet helps me heal."

With a concerned look, Winters led the men away who looked back at me with the same concern. Eugene and Nix walked with me towards the auditorium, where I assumed I would be practicing. As we entered the old, musty hall with streams of light making round circles of sunlight on the floor. I turned to the two men who were kicking around dust balls and wandering aimlessly. "Are you two going to stay?" I asked, a little confused. "Well sure, you're gonna need a helper," said Eugene. "And I just have to watch, anything to get out of running Currahee," said Nix. I sighed as I went to go change into my leotard, thinking fondly of the boys running up a mountain while I had it easy indoors.

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 3: Currahee

**I am so grateful for the encouragement! This was a long one to write, but I'll have the next chapter up ASAP. I am so excited for this story…I have so many ideas I want to do them all at once! Please R&R!**

Currahee

After changing into my pointe shoes and the one black leotard I had brought with me, I walked out to where Eugene and Nix were waiting. Both had thrown off their jackets and were lounging across the floor, Eugene with his journal and Nix with – what else – his flask. Clearing my throat I clapped twice to get them off the floor, and after a second of gawking at my very tight outfit, they scrambled off the floor. "Nix, can you play the piano?" I asked, testing out the nickname in private. "Yeah, I can actually," he said, stretching his hands and cracking his knuckles. "Well, good!" I said with a small laugh. "Could you play something? I don't care what, just something loud enough to cover up, the, um," I hesitated, looking for the right word, "the…screams?"

Both Eugene and Nix stopped and stared at me with horrified expressions. Maybe 'screams' wasn't the right word at all. "I mean, it's just sort of painful, and I deal with it by letting the screams out. It's actually quite nice, you get to release all of your pent up frustrations." The two men were still looking at me as if I was out of my mind. "Never mind. Nix, just go play the piano, and Eugene, you are going to help me stretch."

After warming up at an impromptu barre that I had made out of the back of an old wooden bench, I was ready to go. "Okay Eugene, hold your arm steady out in front of you." Eugene, still very nervous, held out his arm tentatively, and I grabbed his hand firmly and gave him a reassuring smile. Taking a deep breath, I pointed my left foot in front of my right foot, and then slid it sideways until it was pointing away from my side. Then I put my right foot on point. The pain began to slide up my back from the amount of pressure, and my eyes prickled with tears. I slowly raised my left foot in the air until my torso was parallel to the ground. Glancing up at Eugene, I noticed he was wide-eyed and Nixon had stopped playing his waltz in time to see me lift my leg. "You alright, Eugene?" I teased, adding in a small smile. "You look like you're about to faint."

"I just don't understand how someone's body can do that," he said, turning a little green. I laughed off his nausea and the next half hour disappeared into a frenzy of contortions and cringes from my new best friends.

oooo

"You people are at the position of attention!"

Yes, thought Dick, definitely not a good day. After breakfast, he had marched his men back to the barracks for the mandatory equipment check that Captain Sobel demanded every morning. Usually Lew would accompany him, but with his trademark smirk he had skipped away with Private Neel – hew would _not _allow himself to call her by her first name – and shirked his duties. Now, while waiting for Sobel, Dick could only imagine what Sobel would do when he noticed that Nix was missing, _and _that Easy Company had a new member, who was absent because of _ballet_.

Sobel, and his trademark leather jacket, came roaring around the corner ten minutes later than the time he demanded that Easy Company be present. Every man, who had slouched over with impatience, quickly sprang to attention as if good posture would ward of the wrath of Sobel. AS Sobel marched his way, Dick turned to watch him round on his men.

"Private Perconte, have you been blousing your trousers over your boots like a paratrooper?" Sobel shouted, looking down on Perco as he presented his arms for inspection. "No sir," said Perco, looking straight ahead and resisting the urge to punch Sobel in the jaw. "Then explain the creases at the bottom." There was a beat of silence as Perconte tried to think up an excuse for a non-existent problem. "No excuse, sir."

Sobel looked over Perconte's helmet and over at Easy Company. "Volunteering for the parachute infantry is one thing, Perconte, but you have a long way to prove that you belong here. Your weekend pass is revoked." Perconte looked straight forward with enough hatred in his eyes to incinerate Sobel right where he stood. But Sobel moved on to his next victim.

"Name?" he demanded, as George presented his gun. "Luz, George," he said, so fast and nervously it became one word. Sobel picked up his gun and looked inside. "Dirt in the rear side aperture, pass revoked." Sobel moved down to the end of the line, paused, looked at the men, and began his way back. Dick felt a bead of sweat run down his back. The flies were buzzing harmoniously to the sound of a bugle playing far off in the camp. Sobel directed his attention to the front. "When did you sew on these chevrons, Sargent Lipton?" he said, picking at the neatly sewn chevrons on Lipton's arm. "Yesterday, sir," replied Lipton. "Long enough to notice this." Sobel held up an invisible thread in front of Lipton's face. "Revoked," said Sobel, as he moved on.

"Name!" Sobel roared, standing in front of Malarkey, who presented his arms neatly. "Malarkey, Donald G.," replied Malarkey in an even tone. "Malarkey's slang for bullshit, isn't it?" said Sobel, snatching Don's rifle out of his hands. "Yes sir," said Don, his face beginning to turn red. "Rust on the butt plate hinge spring, Private Bullshit," Sobel snapped, shoving Malarkey's mistake in his face. He flipped the rifle into the air and Don caught it easily. "Revoked." Sobel moved on to Liebgott. "Name?" Sobel said, leaning in Liebgott's face menacingly. "Liebgott, Joseph D., sir." Reaching into Liebgott's side pocket, he whipped out a bayonet. "Rusty bayonet, Liebgott," Sobel said, leaning in. "You wanna kill Germans?"

"Yes, sir," replied Liebgott, getting a swift knock on the helmet from the bayonet. "Not with this," Sobel said, stalking off with the bayonet in hand. "I wouldn't take this rusty piece of shit to war, and I wouldn't take you to war in your condition!" He threw the bayonet into the ground. "Now thanks to these men and their infractions, every man in the company who had a weekend pass has lost it." There was silence and pained looks from the men as Sobel stopped and glanced over his company with cold detachment. "Change into your PT gear, we're running Currahee." Sobel stalked away, only to stop suddenly and turn around as the men began filing away towards their barracks, groaning. "Lieutenant Winters, where the hell is Lieutenant Nixon?" All the men stopped suddenly, wanting to hear the conversation, but at the risk of their own hides continued along hurriedly.

Dick sighed internally. "He is currently assisting Doc Roe and Colonel Sink with a new private's physical health, sir." Nix owed him big. Sobel looked at Dick for a moment before turning away and striding away. "Tomorrow I want all three men here, no excuses, or I'll see to it that all of the men's passes are taken away for three weeks straight. You have two minutes to change into your gear, dismissed." Dick watched as Sobel stalked away to wherever the hell he went when he wasn't tormenting his men.

As the men entered the barracks, George made sure to close the doors before addressing the men. "Ho-ly shit."

"But really, what's up with Sobel today? I thought it was impossible for him to bitch and whine more than he does already, but today he seems extra pissed," said Perconte, tossing his boots to the side.

"Someone must have put his bra in the freezer overnight," said Bull, earning laughs from the men around him.

"True, but that's not what I'm talking about," said Luz, sitting down on his bunk. "Why in the name of sweet Jesus did they have to send us a freakin' pin up girl for a medic?"

"Let me get this straight Luz," Leibgott yelled from across the room, "you complaining about a pretty lady being in our company?" All the men laughed and some shook their heads.

"I don't know about you guys, but that girl is top notch," said Guarnere. "I wouldn't doubt if she could make Sobel blush."

"Like hell I'm going to let Sobel anywhere around her," said Luz, who now had his PT gear on. "He's gonna flip shit when he realizes she's a girl."

"So what now Luz, she's your lady?" said Talbert, standing up from his bunk. "No, I'm saying she's the company's girl now, and we have to watch out for her," Luz glared back. "I don't think the lady can even do a pushup, let alone survive Toccoa."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were y'all," said Bull jauntily, waving a piece of paper in the air. "What's that, Bull?" said Muck, trying to snatch the paper out of his hands. Bull easily maneuvered away from him. "This, gentlemen, is our princess's transfer papers and background check." The men immediately surrounded Bull. "Well, what does it say?" said Luz, straining see over his shoulder."

"'Olivia Victoire Gatreaux-Neel," he drawled, "age 19, from the University of Mississippi. Born Shreveport, Louisiana, November 7, 1922; trained medic, specialized in pediatrics, excels in running long distances, passed wilderness survival advanced level, excellent long-distance shot, trained in ballet for ten years, fluent in French and German'," said Bull, hesitating for a moment.

The men waited impatiently. "What is it?" said Luz.

Bull frowned, his cigar stub nearly falling out of his mouth. "There's a handwritten part, signed by a 'H.S. Lee', it says '_though Victoire needs polishing, her ability to think quick under traumatic circumstances makes her perfect for the airborne; however, she is quick to points of unbridled rage if provoked/threatened and severely dislikes those who are cruel to people she cares about; beware making her your enemy, she can be dangerous when seeking revenge._'"

The room was silent as the men looked at each other with a new light of bewilderment in their eyes. The quiet was soon interrupted by Dick, who opened the door to find his men gathered around Bull Randleman, looking extremely sheepish and up to something. They all stood at attention as he slowly entered the room. "Easy Company, what are you doing?" he inquired in that quiet way of his that made every man respect yet trust him all at once. There was a moment of silence, and then Luz stepped forward. "Just discussing Captain Sobel, sir."

Dick's eye twinkled, as he knew full well that he and his men shared an unspoken hatred of Sobel and his pompous ways. "Get outside and in formation. Wait for Captain Sobel there." The men rushed past him, all tittering amongst themselves quietly. Dick could tell something was up. He quickly walked through the barrack, looking for anything that was out of place. A thin piece of paper sticking out of a chest near Bull's bunk caught his eye. He snatched it from the box, expecting it to be a new picture of a pin up girl, but was surprised at the headline. _Official U.S. Army Transfer Form: Confidential_. He rolled his eyes at the mention of confidential, but after taking a second look at who the document was about, he carefully folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

oooo

Nix had actually had the grace to go searching for a record of classical music after his fingers had grown tired of playing the only waltz he knew over and over again, and had come back with a recording of Tchaikovsky's _Swan Lake_. Eugene had given up being my support barre and was reading my stolen medical book in the corner. Outside of the window I could see columns of men running up and down Currahee, and I felt a pang in my heart for the boys of Easy Company. It wasn't fair that I was ordered to do this while they were stuck outside, and I would have gladly joined them if I was given the opportunity.

Nix bounded back into the auditorium after a short bathroom break, and was ready to go. "I want to see some actually dancing, not anymore of this '_I need to stretch my spine!_' shit," he said good naturedly as I glared at him. "Just put the record on any setting, Eugene," I called over to my fellow medic, my eyes still sending rays of annoyance at a giddy Nix. "Sure thing, prima," he yelled as I began to round on him.

However, my anger subsided as I carefully listened to the selection he had chosen. I had performed _Swan Lake _with a ballet company in Lafayette a few years ago when I was still involved in the Children's Hospital, and remembered most of the steps to each number.

As the beautiful music of the harps and the clarinet began to play, I quickly transported myself back to when I played Odette in the opening scene. I began to dance and twirl and stop on my toes and bend and just dance, even though I had gone away from the dusty military auditorium and returned to the dark stage in Louisiana. I had forgotten completely about Eugene and Nix, who were staring at me, enraptured. I soon closed my eyes and danced the part by heart, and convinced myself that I was alone. Each step was a refreshing burst of memory to the girl I had been, and made me feel beautiful, something I had not experienced in a long time. As the tempo picked up and I began to twist faster, I did not see the rest of Easy Company file slowly into the large room. I also did not see Lieutenant Winters staring at me with admiration. The track quickly switched to the coda, and laughing I began to leap and bound all over the stage. Only when I turned around did I notice my large audience. At first I was frozen with stage fright and embarrassed, but as the coda called for the multiple _fouettes_, I decided to give them the show they were obviously looking for. Balancing myself on my tiptoes, I spun around and around, again and again to the music until I had counted out a perfect twenty-two turns and landed with a backbend. As the boys of Easy cheered, I laughed a self-conscious, breathy laugh and landed on my bottom most ungracefully as my legs gave out. Eugene stopped the record and ran over to pick me up as the boys began to mill closer to the stage. "Was that enough dancing for you, Nix?" I yelled over the heads of the laughing and impressed boys, and Nix raised his flask to me in a toast. The Easy men didn't have a single moment to say anything when a large slam of a door opening was heard from the end of the room.

"What in God's name do you all think you are doing?" demanded a surly and self-righteous voice. All of the men quickly stood at attention, and so did I. If my boys thought that this nincompoop was someone to be respectful of, then I figured I might as well be respectful, too.

A tall, pale man with dark hair and mean eyes stomped into our circle and stood very close to Lieutenant Winters' face in a manner that made me angry. "Care to explain the meaning of this, Lieutenant?" said the mean man, staring into Winters' eyes that were trained on something far away. After a second of silence, the man seemed to finally notice me, and sent a confused yet derisive look my way. "And who the hell are you?"

I suppose I must have noticeably bristled, because the men around me shot knowing glances at each other. Winters cleared his throat, and said, "Captain Sobel, sir, this is our new add on to the company and the new medic, Private Neel."

"_Private_ Neel?" hissed Sobel to Winters. "She is a woman."

"Obviously," I heard myself spat before I could stop. I resisted the urge to cover my hand over my mouth as I had just sassed off to a higher ranking officer. "Sir," I added for decorum, though my voice was still firm.

Sobel became very quiet and slowly walked my way. All the other men began to back off, but with a look from Eugene, held their ground. I could tell from their body language that they both feared and hated Sobel, but I was not about to back down from this man. I could see that behind his front, he was just a stupid, shallow, insecure bully who got his rocks off by tattle-telling and torturing my men. Sobel got very close to my face and glared down at me.

"So, Private Neel," he began circling around me, looking me up and down. Normally, I would have been mortified, but I decided through my mounting anger to have a little fun with Sobel. "You thought you would come play dress up as a soldier. What does your daddy think of his little girl playing the whore to come wrestle with the boys?"

As I heard Eugene curse Sobel in French and the murderous looks directed at Sobel around me, I began to think of how absurd this man was. He was going to taunt me with words, then so be it. But I wouldn't take the bet just yet.

"Why do you think you are allowed to skip my inspection to come prance around in a leotard? Do you think it makes you an exception to the rules?" Sobel yelled in my face. For the first time, I allowed my inner insanity to come through my eyes and I stared back at him. We stood there, transfixed, like two cobras caught in a moment of struggle before they both struck.

"I don't know, sir," I said heatedly. "Why do you wear a leather jacket when you run up Currahee?" There was a collected intake of breath from the men around me at my sassiness. "Do you think it makes you faster than the rest of my Company, sir?"

The silence around us was ringing so loudly that it buzzed in my ears. Sobel still stood in front of me, with a mouth as wide as a bass. I don't think that anyone had ever talked to him like that before, and the masks of glee that occupied the boys behind me created a ring of comedy around his face that was broken by the evil smile that overtook his features after he had time to process what had just happened.

Sobel turned swiftly towards the men. "For Private Neel's insolence and your disobedience, your weekend passes are taken away for a month, and you all will run Currahee twice over tomorrow." The once happy faces of the men fell away to shock. Feeling brave and hoping to divert some of the anger that the men now might have had for me, I stepped up behind Sobel. "Don't punish these boys, sir," I said carefully as Sobel stopped where he stood. "I'll run Currahee six times tomorrow, by myself, for all of them."

If there was anything else I might have said that could have blown these men out of the water, this was it. Sobel turned around to me with a cold glare. "Fine," he spat towards me. "I'll be watching. Dismissed." And with that, my new enemy stomped out of the auditorium.

Everything was very quiet, and then I began to giggle. I couldn't stop it though I knew I was being completely irrational. The men all turned towards me now. I stopped laughing and then sighed, and took a swig of my canteen. "That man is a vile piece of work," I said, sitting down and beginning to undo my ribbons on my pointe shoes.

"That was a very unwise choice, Victoire," said Nix who had made his way to the front of the men during the confrontation, and looked at Sobel's retreating figure with a newfound hatred in his eyes. "You do not want Sobel as your enemy. He can do some nasty work behind the scenes."

Standing up and putting my hands on my hips, I looked towards Lieutenant Winters, who was still looking at me as if I was a fish that had grown legs and walked onto land. "Permission to speak to these men, sir?" I asked Winters politely. He just put his hands in the air and backed off a little.

Raising my chin up, I turned to the men, who were either looking at me like I was insane or just watching me carefully. "I know we have met in strange circumstances, but despite what you see, I am strong. You have and will never meet another woman like me. Sure, I dance; I like flowers, makeup, and babies. I'm an excellent cook. But I am not your average housewife-in-training. I can survive a week in the wilderness with some matches and a knife. I know how to forage for food. I can stitch you up in less than three minutes. I can carry hay bales on my back. I can run like my ass is on fire." The men chuckled at this, and I saw a lot of happy eyes trained on me as I walked towards them. "I'm doing this punishment for you to prove two points. One is that I cannot be broken by a man who runs in a leather jacket" – more laughter – "and the other is that I will do anything for the betterment of my company, even if it means more work for me. I suppose I am just asking you all for your trust and companionship through the thick and thin. In return I will give you guys the same. Deal?"

"Deal, Princess," piped up Guarnere, who was grinning so widely that his cheeks were turning red. "Deal!" yelled Eugene, and soon all of the men were yelling 'Deal!' so loudly that I had begun to smile like an idiot. I was soon surrounded by a mass of smelly men who were shaking my hand and circling around me like a protective bubble as we walked outside. Soon we departed their company, and Eugene and I headed back to our medic center for lectures. However, one man hung back until his men were gone without him.

"_Uh-oh, cher, looks like your man has something to say_," whispered Eugene in French as I smacked him across the shoulder. I did however turn back to Lieutenant Winters and walk up to him slowly. "Hello Lieutenant," I said softly, looking into his bright blue eyes. My crush on him was only growing stronger.

"Private Neel," he said, looking everywhere but at me. "Those were quite some speeches you gave today. Maybe you should be the lieutenant of this outfit."

I laughed quietly and shook my head, a little smile growing on my face. "No sir," I said, "I trust the army's judgment in picking their lieutenants. Plus, you're very levelheaded. I think I scared the men half to death."

Winters laughed, which to me sounded like the most attractive sound in the world. "They're already half in love with you already, and after that scene with Sobel, I wouldn't be surprised if they weren't in the barracks planning a mass proposal." I laughed heartily, and saw Winters grin. "Which reminds me," he said seriously, and my laughter died down. "If you pull another stunt like that to a higher ranking than your own, I will have to punish you," he said with a slight frown. "All my punishment is paperwork though, so the most you could do to yourself is get a paper cut." Suddenly, the idea of punishment with Winters didn't sound like such a bad time at all.

"No problem, sir. I can't promise it won't happen again." I looked up at him through my eyelashes, the inner flirt coming out to play. "I tend to be a little feisty." Though I looked away, I saw a blush spread over his face.

"We'll see," he said. "I suppose we'll see you and Eugene at noon lecture." I turned to walk away and smiled back at him. "Oh, and Private Neel?" he said, and I looked back one last time. "Call me Dick."

I smirked sweetly back at him. "And you can call me Victoire." With that I saluted him gracefully, and he did the same. I turned back to the cabin with a blush forming on my cheeks, and the gleeful face of Eugene.

"Ooh la la la laaa," sing-songed Eugene, who dodged another swipe to the head and cackled mercilessly.

oooo

"I'm gonna marry that girl," said Liebgott, who was walking slowly with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Like hell you are," snorted Luz, who was quickly devising a plan to get gardenias on such a short notice. "Not if I get to her first."

"Both of you are insane. She's totally going to fall for me once I get her to dinner and then talk about how much I love kids," said Talbert, as the men laughed. "Dames love it when you talk about kids."

Nix, who had been listening in, quickly strode into the conversation. "All of you are completely ridiculous," he said, unscrewing the cap off his flask. "First of all, you can't marry anyone in the army while you are in the army." The men all grumbled at this. "And secondly," he continued, taking a swig, "even if Princess does marry anyone in this company, which I highly doubt she will, it will be Lieutenant Winters."

"What, that Quaker?" said Guarnere, with a put off look. "Nah, that girl wants someone with a wild side, and one thing I know about Winters is that he's as wild as a brick wall." The other men chuckled good naturedly at this, while Nix just shook his head. He knew what was coming, and he would be damned if he let Dick pass up this opportunity.

oooo

That night Eugene, Nix, Dick, and I were resting in our cabin, and I was enjoying the first downtime I had been allotted at Toccoa. While the boys were playing poker, I had taken off my shoes and socks and was laying on my stomach, feet in the air, reading my medical manual and taking notes in my journal. I had begun to notice that every few minutes Dick would look up at me for a moment, and then return to his poker game. Eugene was losing badly, and was looking for an ample distraction. He found one in me.

"Hey cherie," he said, lighting another Lucky Strike. "Teach us something to say in German, so if we ever get caught we don't get killed."

Rolling my eyes, I decided to have a little fun with Eugene. "Du bist lächerlich, Eugene. Keine noch so große deutsche jemals sparen Sie von einem verrückten Kraut," I said softly and smoothly.

"Yeah, uh-uh," said Eugene, knowing I had probably just said something insulting. "Right back at you princess."

"Ich habe gerade deinen Arsch retten könnte eines Tages, Eugene, so you had better be nice to me," I replied, switching back to English. There was no response from Eugene, so I gave up the fight. "_But really, Eugene_," I said seriously in French, stifling a yawn. "_My German might just save us one day. But you would never let me get captured and taken hostage, would you, my gallant knight?_" I cooed at him from across the room, and he stuck his tongue out at me. I giggled to myself and lay back down.

"Goodnight manly men," I hollered from across the room. "I have to get some sleep if I'm going to run twelve miles tomorrow." I remarked this lightly, as if I was discussing having French toast for breakfast.

"We're proud of you, cherie," said Eugene, shuffling his deck of cards. I muttered a sleepy thank you and drifted off into a sea off nothingness, pierced only every now and then with bright blue eyes.

oooo

Dick would be a liar if he had said he's only looked at her a few times that evening. Everything she did was so graceful and calculated; he couldn't not look at her. It had started when she had rolled her shoulders and let out a sigh. That little sigh was enough to make him concerned. The sigh had said, _I may be strong, but I am also very tired_. He just wanted to know what weighed her down.

And then it had gone to the emergence of her feet. He glanced over when she began to unlace her boots, and then shed her socks. Every few minutes she would arch her head back and touch her toes to her hair. This drove Dick crazy.

Maybe it was because she was the first woman he had talked to in months, he rationalized to himself. Or maybe it was because she had thrown herself under the bus for a company of men she knew nothing about. Whatever it was, there was something about – _Victoire, _he let himself say her name in his head, _Victoire _– that made him want to do crazy things. Like go beat up Sobel for calling her a whore. Or maybe volunteer to run the twelve miles for her. Or go get her something blue. These were dangerous feelings for a dangerous girl.

He reached into his pocket where her transfer paper was still resting, and gripped the page firmly as she yawned and arched her back from across the room. She was a walking anomaly.

oooo

I was on mile nine, and my body was on fire.

Granted, Currahee was not the woodland paradise that it appeared to be from the Toccoa entrance. It was dusty, hot, and unforgiving terrain. Luckily, I had been running on such backwoods roads as a young girl, retrieving the rabbit and ducks that my father had shot down. He used to joke that I was a better substitute for a Labrador retriever to his buddies, who would shake their heads admiringly and wish that they had sons as adventurous as his daughter.

I was not feeling quite as adventurous now. Though I was getting an oddly sick pleasure from seeing Sobel's face turn a rainbow assortment of pale, red, purple, and then green as he realized that I would beat him at his own game, all this running had released my deviousness, and as I was running down the last three miles of Currahee, I began to hatch a plot to drive Sobel insane, just as he was driving my men insane, just as he was pushing my lieutenant to the edge of being a good man.

Yes, I had begun to allow myself to call him _my_ lieutenant in my head. Dick thought that he could hide his reactions towards me, and he did so very well; but the one thing he could not hide was the tension that grew every day between us. I was looking forward to the time it would break and we would tumble down in frenzy.

I had a mile and a half to the bottom, and I could see my company at the base of the hill where Currahee began, waiting for me. Apparently after my declaration yesterday, each man had taken it upon themselves to become my bodyguard. I was met by a crowd of burly yet dedicated men outside the medic's tent on my way to breakfast.

"Oh!" I had looked up startled from my canteen, which I had been guzzling from since 0530 that morning. "Hello, all."

They muttered their greetings as they closed in around me and formed what I had nicknamed in my head 'the Square of Terror'. Surrounding me on all sides, they glared at anyone who dared to glance or wink my way. It was almost cute, in a frightening way. I delusional chuckled to myself as I stumbled into the arms of my men at the end of my hill.

Bill was the first one to catch me in his arms and swing me around. "We knew you could do it Princess," he said softly in my ear. I grinned widely and released myself from his grip. "I'm not a princess anymore, Bill," I slurred, still panting from my run. "I'm the Queen." At this, the men began to laugh and mutter to themselves with grins plastered on their faces.

Quickly the area began to clear out as Sobel stomped toward our group. He stopped right in front of my nose and glared down at me, and I looked up defiantly. "Well," he began, his voice dangerous but deadly. "Well. It seems you did it private. But let me tell you something," his tone dropped down to a whisper that only I could hear, "the next time you embarrass me in front of these men, there will be hell to pay you little slut. And I'm not talking about running Currahee." His eyes were slanted like a snake's, and I swore I heard him let out a soft hiss.

But he still didn't scare me. I took a step back and saluted him smartly. "I'll keep that in mind, sir," I replied sweetly, not taking his bait. Sobel might have had the expertise to intimidate and keep his men in line, but when it came down to women, he had no clue how to interpret my next move. With another quick look at my bodyguard squad, and another glare into my eyes, he quickly walked away. I turned back to my boys, who had all kept their composure until Sobel was out of sight.

Don was the first to speak up. "I hope he crawls back into whatever hell-hole he came out of here for treating our lady like that," he said as he flipped the bird in Sobel's general direction. I laughed and reached up to take his hand down, but was stopped by a bone-splitting pain on my shoulder. "Don, don't do tha – owww!" My other hand immediately went into the back of my shirt, and emerged sticky with bright red blood. Everyone went still for a few seconds, and then I found myself being hustled from the field and into the medic's tent, where I saw Eugene giving aspirin to a man with a bandaged ankle. Detaching myself from the men, I began to back away from them with hazy eyes and a spinning head. "Now listen here," I began, growing dizzier with every step. "Just because I have a little blood on me…doesn't mean that I'm gonna just keel over and…" suddenly my legs gave out. Before I hit the ground, I was caught by a pair of strong arms and saw a flash of blue.

oooo

Dick had been watching Victoire run all morning through his binoculars from the top of the mess hall where he was supervising some of the men from Dog Company unload the next week's ingredients. He admired the way she was able to consistently run back and forth, up and down, without a second of hesitation or fatigue. The whole run had taken her just under an hour and a half, something that was unheard of at the camp. If anything, he was just more convinced of Victoire's otherworldly nature.

He saw his men ready to catch her at the bottom of the hill at any moment of the run if she was to stumble, but also observed that they were acting as a protective barrier between Victoire and Sobel. Though they may not be able to stop Sobel from insulting their girl, Dick was proud to see them acting like gentlemen. Even Liebgott and Guarnere had been getting along since Victoire had arrived. It seemed like all the men were utterly enraptured by her very presence, Dick included. He hated that his composure was constantly at risk when Victoire was around. He did a very good job at masking his ridiculous compulsions from everyone but Lew, who would throw him a conspiratorial wink every time she would walk by.

As he watched his men congratulate Victoire on her run, he also observed Sobel getting menacingly close to her face, and the men closing in around him. He took his eyes off the field for one moment to sign a clipboard, and when he looked back everything had dissolved into chaos. Malarkey and Guarnere each had Victoire by the arm and was half dragging half helping her walk stumbling hurriedly to the medical tent. A blind panic took over Dick's mind as he quickly ran down the stairs and jogged hurriedly to the back of the medical tent.

He entered to see only Victoire's back, which was drenched in blood, and his company's shocked faces as she was saying 'doesn't mean that I'm gonna just keel over and…' before he saw her legs buckle under. Thinking quickly, he snatched her up before she could hit the ground and saw her eyes roll back into her head. "Clear the table!" he yelled fearfully to Eugene, who basically knocked the poor guy with the broken ankle to the ground.

Liebgott dashed ahead and helped Dick flip her over so her back was exposed. With no time to respect dignity, Eugene began sawing away at her heavy olive shirt, and ripped it open exposing her back. Eugene's first impulse was to gag at how much blood was running down her back, but after a short inspection discovered the damage was not as bad as it looked. Victoire had a small but deep gash across he left shoulder that had severed some large veins. As the men around him panicked, he went to work cleaning off the excess blood. Dick was still standing protectively over Victoire's body, his expression unreadable.

Quickly he turned to his men. "How did this happen?" he said quietly, face stoic. He tried to remember in vain when he had taken his eyes off of her, when she might had been vulnerable. "Did Sobel do this?" In his livid state he tossed off all formalities.

"No, lieutenant," said Luz, piping up from somewhere in the back. "She was fine one second, and then after she came down the hill, she just began to bleed." All the men nodded to themselves.

"Well none of you have to worry that much," said Eugene, who was busy preparing stitches. "She must have cut herself on the run somehow, but failed to notice. When you run, all the blood in your heart goes to your stomach. You wouldn't notice you were cut until you heart rate began to slow down, and the blood begins to travel up." He just shrugged.

Dick slowly walked over to the table and looked at Victoire. Only then did he notice her surgery scars on her spine. The idea of breaking one's spine made him cringe, although he would have snapped Sobel's back in half if he had hurt Victoire. After Eugene stitched her up, he reached into the refrigerated area and pulled out a bag of blood and an IV, and quickly hitched her up to it. "She's lost a lot of blood, but once it adjusts to her system she should come to," Eugene said, laying down his surgical needle and sighing. "My work is done here, boys. All we can possibly do is go eat some lunch." All the boys hesitantly filed out of the room, except Dick and Nix. They both shared a glance and then sighed.

"Go get our men calmed down, Dick, I'll stay here," said Nix, grabbing a chair and propping his feet up on the operating table. "I don't even like the food they're serving today anyway." He thought a moment about insisting that he stay, but then realized that he was being selfish. With a quick nod and a lingering look at the girl on the table, he walked quickly out of the tent before he changed his mind. Nix smirked at his retreating figure, and then went to retrieve the bottle of Vat 69 he had hidden in the bandages cabinet.

oooo

I was floating somewhere dark, where I could hear voices straining over me, and was aware of a bright light that wasn't shining on me, but illuminated the darkness too. In my darkness there were trees that rained down wood and branches, and the doe from Chamblee was staring at me with wide blue human eyes. I tried to run away but was frozen, barefoot in the snow, as the ground exploded from under me. With a jolt my eyes opened and I stared down at the dark brown floorboards of the medical tent that were stained with blood and water.

"Oh good, you're alive," replied the calm voice of Lewis Nixon, who was lounging next to me and nursing an entire bottle of Vat 69. "That's a relief."

"What did I do – I mean," my raspy voice was not cooperating. "Wait, why is my shirt ripped open?" I could feel the slight breeze on my back and blushed. Nix only laughed, and I blushed harder.

"It seems you cut your shoulder sometime during your marathon today." Nix picked his bottle back up and topped off his flask. "Care to explain that one?"

"A tree hit me on my way down," I replied with a grimace as I tried to stand. Nix snorted and looked at me with condescending eyes.

"A tree hit you?" He retorted. I shrugged my good shoulder. "It was going too fast for me to see," I said with a little smile. Nix laughed and flicked me on the nose. "Let's get you a fresh shirt before you give half these men a heart attack," he said, walking to the supply closet. He whipped out a standard shirt and tossed it at me. "Put that on and let's go get you some lunch, you still look a little pale." I carefully buttoned up the shirt, leaving it untucked as it rubbed painfully against my stitches. He offered an arm and we emerged into daylight.

After getting my grilled cheese sandwich and bowl of tomato soup, Nix and I made our way over to the boys. As I hobbled along, Easy Company immediately jumped up and made a space for me next to Eugene. "What are you doing up?" he said, reaching up to check my head for fever and listening to my pulse. "You should still be passed out like a log." The men around us snickered, but stopped when they saw my hand tremble as I tried to spoon up some soup. Giving up on the weakness of my body, I snatched my straw up from my drink and stabbed it into my soup. "I had nightmares. Not my fault," I said roughly, looking up at all the men. "Nightmares about what?" said Liebgott, ripping the crust off of his grilled cheese. "Exploding trees," I said, staring at my soup. "Trees in a snowy forest, planted in rows. They were exploding."

There was silence for at least a good five minutes before anyone spoke again. "You need to go to bed," said Eugene, who was finishing his water. "Doctor's orders." He winked at me and I shot him a look before finishing my soup.

"Fine," I said, and began to stand up. Nix tried to grab my elbow and help me up, but I wiggled out of it. "Y'all have to stop treating me like I'm a cripple," I laughed, and the men noticeably relaxed. Eugene looked back at my retreating figure in the now almost-empty mess hall. "_I'm serious, Victoire. Get some sleep. Or else,_" he yelled in French. I snatched up a half-eaten piece of bread and lugged it at the back of his head, where it made a direct, buttery hit. "_Bring it on, Bayou Boy_," I taunted, sticking my hands on my hips and jutting my legs out. I saw Eugene begin to get up, and I screamed and dashed away as he came at me with half eaten tomato soup. I ran laughing all the way to my cabin before collapsing on my bunk and falling asleep.

oooo

The next few weeks passed on without any further action. Sobel had now resorted to ignoring me during our morning inspections, which I had taken with a grain of salt. Sure, I loved not having to battle with Sobel daily, but I knew he was up to something by the way he would look at me. I was ready for whatever he had to throw at me.

But soon enough the men and my punishment of no weekend passes expired, and one Friday after I finished showering in the medic tent, Eugene barged in on me in the bathroom while I was exfoliating my face. "Victoire! Guess what!" he said as he threw the door open, despite the occupied sign on the door and me wearing just a towel. I had soon grown comfortable with Eugene appearing when I was half naked. I sighed as I finished rinsing my face and looked up at him. "What?"

"We," he began, and started to waltz me around the bathroom as I yelled in protest and clutched onto my slipping towel, "are going out tonight!" I opened my mouth to protest, but Eugene just clamped a hand over it. "So, thinking ahead, I dug out your old suitcase and found a little something that I think you will need, and will effectively, in my opinion, make your lieutenant die on the spot!" I carefully considered his plan for a moment, and then nodded my head in reluctant agreement. Even if I had said no, I knew Eugene would have made me play along anyway.

"Show me my dress!" I laughed and shook my head. Eugene took my hand and led me into the main room of the tent. He had tied up the entrance and put a sign on the outside that said 'CLOSED'. I laughed. "Are you even allowed to close a medical tent?" I teased. "Not the point," he replied, and disappeared into the closet. I patiently waited as he scrambled around for something. "Ah ha! Here it is!"

He whipped out one of the dresses I had purchased a year ago in Oxford. It was a Christian Dior sample sale dress that had somehow found its way to northern Mississippi. The first half of the dress was a deep royal blue silk that left my shoulders exposed, and the bottom half was midnight blue silk that cinched tight around my waist but fanned out around my knees. It was experimental and short, and it outlined my curves. Sometimes I wondered about Eugene and how he could read my mind. I smiled widely and clapped.

"And, to top it off," said my best friend. "I dug up your makeup that you hid poorly under your bunk." I blushed at this, knowing full well the reason I hid my 'contraband', as Sobel called it, because I couldn't stand losing it. It had cost a fortune. I eagerly snatched the bag out of Eugene's hands, and he chuckled merrily. "We'll Princess," he said. "Let's get you dressed. We're meeting the men at the bar in an hour and a half." He checked his watch, and I hurried to go put on the dress.

Precisely an hour and a half later, Gene and I emerged from the medical tent, he dressed in his starchy uniform, and I feeling like a lady for the first time in a long time. Though I couldn't find any stockings to complete the outfit, Eugene had curled my long hair and pulled it halfway up into a little ponytail. As we walked towards the bar outside of the camp, I noticed other men from Dog and Fox Company leering at me. Eugene put a protective arm around my waist and pulled me a little closer.

When we entered the bar, I had a flashback to my college days. The boys inside were playing darts, smoking cigarettes, and taking shots; I immediately felt comfortable. But my boys, however, were all gathered in the back of the bar. As Eugene and I made our way towards them, my eyes sought out only one man from the crowd. Dick was standing with Nix, but when Nix looked my way with surprise, Dick glanced over my way and we locked eyes. We stood there frozen to the spot for what seemed like an eternity, until Eugene poked me in the side and forced me forward.

"Before y'all even ask, gentleman," began Eugene, as he pulled out a chair for me at the table, "I have already called the first dance with this lovely lady." The men around me groaned and shot wadded bar napkins at Eugene, who ducked and laughed.

"We never get any time with her Roe, cause you hog her all the time," grumbled Bill, and Luz nodded his approval. "Yeah screw you, Roe," added Liebgott. "Maybe you should give us guys a chance to win her over?" Leaning over Liebgott winked at me and kissed my hand. I couldn't help but blush and giggle and the men around me made catcalls and grumbled at Liebgott.

"Well I can't say no to that," I said, standing up. "But Eugene did call the first dance. Let's go, boo." Eugene bowed and offered his arm and I took it gracefully. As we slid onto the bar, the whole room seemed to back up around us. "What's it gonna be, Eugene?" said Penkala, who seemed to be manning the jukebox. "What you think, cher?" said Eugene, the Cajun accent coming out in his excitement. "New Orleans jazz, of course," I replied with a toss of my head. Penkala agreed and on we went. Soon we were doing the Charleston to a jazz band Penkala had picked out of random, and before I knew it we were spinning and dancing and twirling around the floor. Eugene was a splendid dancer. I twirled out and then back into his arms, where he swept me into a dip. By this point I was out of breath, and Eugene stopped the dance. All the men Easy and the bar clapped heartily as we walked back to our table.

I plopped myself into the chair in the most unladylike fashion. Nix walked up to me carrying his glass. "Can I get you a drink Victoire?" he questioned, with a mischievous glint in his eyes. I suppose all the boys wanted me to get liquored up and I was more than obliged to comply. "Jack Daniel's, straight," I panted out of breath. Nix did a little bow, and not a minute had passed until he came back with my drink. Holding it up to the boys, I said "Currahee!" and we toasted. Surprising myself, I drank my glass down with one gulp.

The night passed in a flurry of drinks and dancing with each man of Easy Company, all except my lieutenant, who stayed in the corner and just watched our antics with amused eyes. After an hour of steady drinking, I had begun to feel that delightful buzz in my head. And the boys around me had begun to look cuter than usual. George, who had progressively gotten drunker and drunker, had begun to propose marriage to me.

"If you marry me," he was saying as I zoned back into the conversation. "I'll build you a house on Lake Pontchartrain with a little boathouse full of chocolate covered strawberries and champagne." I began to laugh delightedly as I mock-considered his offer. "I'm sorry, George, but my heart already belongs to someone else," I whispered conspiratorially. My eyes involuntarily looked over at Dick, who was watching me intensely. As fast as I had gone from shyness to hilarity, my mood immediately turned lustful. I tried to look away but I couldn't, and I didn't want to. I watched him walk across the room and come to stand next to my chair, looking down at me. Electricity was popping in the air, and every fiber of my being felt alive. Dick reached down and picked up my hand from the table slowly, and my heart began to pound. "Would you care to dance, Victoire?" he asked quietly, and I looked into his eyes for a second before I said, "Yes, I would." Carefully I rose out of my chair and followed him to the front of the bar. He quickly spun me into whatever song was playing on the jukebox – it didn't matter. All that mattered was that his hand was on my hip, and my body was on fire again. We didn't do anything but just stare at each other as we slowly spun around.

After a moment, he leaned down and whispered, "You have got to stop looking at me like that." I avoided his eyes as he spun me out and brought me back in. "Like what, sir?" I asked calmly. I had to hear him say it out loud. "You drive me wild, and you know it don't you?" he said, with a smile in his voice. I smirked to myself as he had finally figured out my attraction to him. As the short song ended, I leaned in close. "Maybe I want to drive you wild, sir. I think it would do you some good to lose control." The song had ended and Dick drew back from me, a fire that I had never seen before raging in his eyes. Knowing that the game had just started, I saluted him elegantly, and walked off towards Eugene. "It's time for us to go now," I said to him softly, and he nodded solemnly. Turning to the boys, I smiled gently. "Boys, I am as drunk as a skunk," I said gently, making the men chuckle to see their lady so liquored up. "And it is way past my bedtime. I will see all of you tomorrow." With that, Eugene and I walked out of the bar. Standing outside, Dick and Nix were talking under a streetlight. Walking past I gave Nix a smile, but to Dick I gave a long look from underneath my eyelashes. With that, Eugene and I disappeared into the night.


	5. Author's Note!

**Hey everyone! I just want to thank y'all for the awesome reviews and advice. I noted your concerns that this is going in a Mary Sue direction, but I'm here to reassure y'all that will not happen! There's still a lot about Vic that is hidden – it's just going to take some time to come out! Once again, thank you guys so much. Y'all are so supportive, and it makes me so happy to hear that y'all love this story as much as I do. **

**I'm currently working on the fourth chapter, but I work during the day so that leaves my writing window to late nights. It will most likely be a few days before I publish it, so hang in there! **


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